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Natalie was an avid reader. For as long as she could remember, she always had some kind of book in her hands. She was twelve when she discovered fanfiction on one lucky day and since then she had read many different kinds of fanfiction. It was also through fanfiction that Natalie met her best friend, Harper. Unfortunately, Harper was also a fan of Natalie's most hated genre of fanfiction, the dreaded Self-Inserts.

Honestly, Natalie found it insulting the way in which writers had the gall to insert an original character whose primary function always served to… 'save the world'. Sure, some were in fact quite well written, that much she could admit, but the plot was always the same. The original character, most of the times a female character, was reborn or somehow dropped into a familiar world. The story would be filled with angst, angst and more angst as the character would try to accept the fact that, yes they were in fact in a very familiar world, either as an original character or embodying a pre-existing character.

However, while Natalie was a literature snob, her best friend was not. Unfortunately for her, Harper was an avid fan of Self-Insert stories. Even more unfortunate was the fact that her crazy best friend was into the occult. So when Natalie decided to insult the Self-Insert genre – if it could even be considered as a genre – one time too many, Harper went ballistic. And that was how Natalie found herself in this… ah, much unfortunate predicament.

In other terms, that was how twenty-four years old Natalie Butler found herself in the body of one eleven years old Harry Potter.

With a long-suffering sigh and a groan, she – er, he – collapsed back on the cot under her, hard knocking on the door of the cupboard and the screeching of a harpy resounding around her.